The adventure journal of Elaine and Daniel Vardamis

07/27/2016

The past few days my thoughts have turned to wide-open spaces. sagebrush valleys, lonely mountain ranges, dark clouds of thunderstorms, tiny shack burger joints, wild horses and coyotes. The open west really. While Colorado is technically the west, we have a lack of these things in the Front Range. It's simply too crowded. That's the big problem with living in the fastest growing area in the country. There are too many of us. We're running out of space to roam, space to breathe.

I've come to realize that the things I like - easy access to mountains, plentiful jobs and a liberal base are things that a whole heck of a lot of other people like too. One salvation - I don't really care so much about being near a metropolitan area. Sure, a good meal and movie is nice, but we could be perfectly content in a cabin at the base of that lonely mountain range, with empty trails to hike and fresh powder to ski and almost no people. And while I'm as liberal as they come, I'm also beginning to find a new tolerance as I grow older. Different strokes for different folks, so long as we respect each other. Truth is, some of the loneliest and most beautiful places are not liberal. At some point the pros of living in a bastion of open thinking is outweighed by the sheer number of people living here. Happy Valley is wonderful, but I doubt this will be our last hurrah.

In the meantime, we live. This summer is a bit of a big exhale before an action packed 2017. We're planning on doing a 100-mile race in Norway in February that no Americans have ever completed, and a 3,000 mile hike on the CDT over the summer. One does not embark on a 3,000-plus mile hike without a lot of preparation. Some of that prep work is logistics for the trip, but some of it is taking care of the essentials. Stuff like going to the dentist and getting that annoying tooth pulled. Getting that physical while health insurance is still a reality. Taking care of the house and prepping it for a long absence. Basically, life. There is a reason many folks take a year off between big thru hikes. You need that year to catch up on life and make money to do it again.

It's not been a bad exhale. One of the highlights has been this nordic training group I signed up for. Roller skiing every Tuesday night. At the first session, I got my ass thoroughly handed to me. Literally left in the dust, stunned by my lack of fitness and suffering from hellacious allergies. It got incrementally better, but the allergies persisted most of the early summer. I'm pretty sure it was allergies because at one practice session it rained, hard. I felt cool and alive. All of the sudden, I felt back to normal, spry, good breathing and quick. The next week it was 98°, dry and brutal, and I was suffering.

Still, I've been working hard to break through. Part of that has been rest. This is the first year in many where I've consciously taken a day off per week. By doing that, I'm better able to train hard when I need to and also have time to plan the week. It's finally starting to pay off. Today training was good. We did intervals today, and a little time trail. There is a guy who has been smoking me all year. Today, for the first time, I was able to keep up with him, bridge gaps and even win a sprint. I'm thankful to have somebody to push me, to make me improve. It's the gift of competition and training groups. We elevate each other.

Tonight, back to my newest project, building these wooden skis. After an hour of fiddling with the spokeshave, I managed to get it just right. My technique is still rudimentary, but I did manage some nice curls. My goal is ten in a row without chatter and losing the curl. It's not easy, but like everything in life, hard work yields results.

07/24/2016

Fjallraven is a Swedish company that makes outdoor apparel and gear. While their best known product is the somewhat "hipster" Kanken day pack, they actually produce a full line-up of highly technical products. While I have not actually laid hands on one of their tents, they look like a dead ringer for Hilleberg tents, which are in my opinion the best in the business for serious cold weather expeditions.

Fjallraven makes some dynamite outdoor pants, but they are "old school" in many ways. They eschew Gore-Tex and other high tech fabrics for something called G-1000 - essentially a robust cotton with a slicker outside than your average t-shirt. The advantage of G-1000 comes from it's breathability. Bottom line - cotton breathes well. Yet in the outdoors, some waterproofing or at least resistance is often needed. Fjallraven does this by promoting and producing something called Greenland Wax, which is an environmentally friendly paraffin. Waxing is simple - rub it onto the areas where water resistance is desired and then iron it in. Want more waterproofing? Put on more wax. Want less? Use less - or even no - wax. This method is cool because one can customize garments. I've always found certain areas of clothing get more wet than others - the shoulders, the bottom of the coat, the thighs, the butt, etc. Fjallraven says you can melt in your wax with your camp stove or over an open fire for field application. This method sounds slightly terrifying, but seeing how these pants are produced by Vikings I can see how they would recommend that.

The waxed cotton theory could be ideal for spring and fall in the Rockies. I do find that their pants are a little too warm in the dead of summer, which might have something to do with their origin - they are from Scandinavia where 90° days are rare. Also, I'm not sure I'd trust the wax as my only waterproofing solution in a super wet climate like Alaska, Norway or the Hoh Rainforest...for those locales I'd prefer Gore-Tex active or something to the like. That said, I need to test that and report back. It rains a lot in Sweden and these are the pant of choice for the outdoors over there. Theoretically using these in very wet conditions seems flawed - but theory and practical use don't always mesh. More on this topic as I get it.

Back to the Keb Gaiter Pants. These are probably Fjallraven's most technical hiking/mountaineering pants. They feature G-1000 in all the areas where reinforcement is needed - the thighs, bottom of legs, etc, and a stretchy material on the more motion driven areas, like the butt and inner thighs. They work well and provide a great range of motion.

These are zip-off pants. Zip offs are high in functionality and absolutely the pits in fashion. Is there anything more dorky than a zip-off? Well, believe it or not, Fjallraven did a good job with these. They don't really look like zip-offs - they "almost" look cool. Compared to offerings from Outdoor Research and Kuhl...well, they are downright stylish! I chose the U.N Blue color, which looks spiffy. The only problem is my normal hiking ski shirt and hat are also blue, so it's not hard to go out their looking like a smurf!

While they are maybe only quasi stylish, there is nothing quasi about the functionality. They are simply an awesome Colorado pant for the high country. Start the morning off in the cold with the pants fully intact, and when it warms up, zip 'em off and have a nice pair of shorts. My only complaint with the zip-off function is the seam near the knees is a little uncomfortable when they are in pant mode. Not bad, but they are not pajamas. I have sensitive skin and little things like that bug me, so for most it probably wouldn't be a problem.

As I mentioned, G-1000 is a warm material, but fortunately these pants have a long, almost seductive outer thigh zip. This is a nice interim as the day is warming up (or you are exerting more effort) but it's not warm enough yet for shorts. The ability to control the thermostat in the Keb Gaiter Pant is the best I've ever seen on any pant.

Another feature of these pants - that I admittedly have not used, is you can make them full-on Gaiters when they are zipped off. The lower part has a latch to connect to laces and the upper part of it has a draw strong cord to synch it over the calf. If one is serious about using this feature I would recommend attaching a little cord to the existing eyelets at the bottom of the cuff to create a strap under the boot.

The pockets on Fjallraven pants are the best I've ever seen. They are large and on the thigh, perfect for a camera, map, compass, food, dog leash, etc. This is one of the best features on the Keb Gaiter Pants.

Fjallraven sizing weird weird. They use a European system that is detailed on their website. Basically, I wear a 31 in the U.S. pants and a 46 in Fjallravens. I have a 32 inch inseam and the pants are the long version - they also come in regular. The long length seems to work well for me. They fit very well, although I must say they are a little snug around the butt. My wife loves it, but it's a big difference from North American fits. It seems to be a trait on most Fjallraven pants, especially the Keb models. It's odd, because the waist is perfect, if not even a little loose. I wear a belt with them, but I'm honestly not sure I need to. The fit is highly functional...it's just different.

I've been using the pants for about a month now on hikes in Indian Peaks wilderness. I pushed them a little bit by using them for a backcountry spring ski as well. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the cuff fit just about perfectly over my Dyanfit TLT-6 boots. There was no loose fabric to catch a crampon on...always a nice thing on steep snow climbs. Note however, that this doesn't seem to work with the regular Keb (non-gaiter version). My wife has a pair of those and they do not fit over her TLT-5's. This could be a size thing too...my boot is a 27.5 and hers is a 22.5. Best to test them out in the shop if you hope to use them for this application.

While I've only had them a month, durability seems outstanding. There is no piling or tearing or any tell-tale signs of wear. I also notice they dry very quickly...there is something to this G-1000 stuff. One application where materials like G-1000 works great is mid-winter nordic ski touring. Water proofing is nearly a non-issue in these conditions, but breathability is a big issue, especially if you move fast or run warm. I'm not sure I'd use the gaiter version for nordic ski touring - I doubt I'd ever want the zip-off function when it is 5° F in January - but I'd have zero hesitation using the standard Keb pant for a tour on the Asnes Nansens.

I'm a fan of these pants. I love the versatility, the look and the durability. I also think Fjallraven has a cool, environmentally friendly story. I'm going to give them 4.5 stars out of five, with the little deduction being a result of the tight fit around the butt. I'd say I could lose some weight, but I don't have much to lose! They are a great option for somebody who wants a classic hiking pant with lots of versatility. For cold mornings and hot days they are hard to beat! And as the temperature gets a little colder in mid-August and beyond, I think they'll be even better. They are not cheap - they retail for $225 - but I suspect the durability and functionality could make them an outdoor wardrobe staple for a decade. There are not too many outdoor pants out there that I can say that about, and the cost is actually comparative. While not cheap, they are a good value.

07/23/2016

There is a good gauge for fitness behind our house. It's about a two mile climb, and it is a hard run. It's steep, works the legs, and keeps the lungs moving to the max. After doing some quick calculations, I figured out I'm a little slower right now than I was last year right before ski season. About a minute slower over 13 minutes...not insignificant. I've certainly had some breathing and general fatigue issues since Norway and then getting sick, but I do feel like those are subsiding, and if this pulled tooth ever starts feeling better I think I'll start making nice headway. Today's time was 13:06. I'd like to see if I can chop that down to 12 minutes before snow flies. And if possible, even a little faster.

I have a few limiters right now. First, I don't feel like my leg strength is where it should be. So it's time to start doing two minute tucks (eventually more) and lunges at work. Hiking with weight will help too. Second, I have done basically zero intervals, save for the frenzied jumps that Adam has us do at roller ski practice. I think I've been a little afraid of running this summer - probably because of the breathing issues - but it's time to get over that and start improving. Fear leads to stagnation. One thing I realized today...I like running uphill and I'm decent at it. If I take a little identity with that, it's not the worst thing in the world. Sometime identity is important, and I have not had a ton of it lately.

I have not been the strongest mentally this summer either. I worry too much. I've been a little bit prone to that since dad died. Worried about health, the future, getting older. Don't worry so much. What happens in life is beyond your control. You are still very healthy and young with a lot of good years ahead of you. I eat well, exercise religiously and am getting better with sleep. Don't let work cause too much stress...it's simply not worth it. Stay positive and have fun...life is too short for anything else. It was many years ago when coach Tim Davis made me say ten times on that hillside in Whistler, "I'm a good skier, I'm a good person." Keep doing that. You are a good skier (and runner, hiker, biker and everything else) and you are a great person. And I've got my dad at my side and the best wife in the world. Enjoy it...life is grand and the best is yet to come!

On the technical side of things, Mal cautioned against Mule kick while roller skiing. I don't think I'm doing it, but it's a good reminder to drive the knee forward, compress aggressively at the start of the stride, and stay dynamic and centered over the skis.

Bottom line...it's almost August. It's time to get serious. Just think...in one month the leaves will have started turning. In two months, we'll be in the peak of foliage. And in three months, the trees will be bare and the ground starting to freeze. And in four months, we'll be skiing.

It's been a hot summer in Boulder. Too hot really. The mountains are the place to be, and I hope the crispness returns to the air tomorrow morning.

I saw the Ouzel that woman was telling me about last night! I was sitting on the rock, petting Stella, and there it was, hovering over the rapids, diving its beak into the water sporadically in search of food (I'm assuming). And then, it flew over to our side, before rocketing up the stream, just over the rapids, like a missile in flight. I didn't see the nest, but I'll have to look more carefully next time!

07/22/2016

I find the political season pointless. People place so much emphasis on it, and I guess to some extent it's important. As in, we don't the next Hitler to be our president. But the endless banter of political posts on Facebook is a real soul sapper. I wish folks would post more images of adventure and stories of life. Politics almost seems like real world entertainment, not unlike a sit-com or a sporting event on T.V. It feels staged and it seems to divide more than bring together. One thing I know - I doubt anybody has changed their mind because of a Facebook post!

Today I ran up the hill behind the house. It's a good ass-kicker. Short, steep and sweet. That hill has provided a lot of good times for me, a lot of salvation. When I moved away from this valley in 2009, that was the thing I missed most...the hill behind the house. In the summer I run and hike it. In the winter I ski it, almost religiously. It's to the point where I have a special set of skis just for that hill! It's a great place, and I hope when I die a few of my ashes are spread there. Arapaho Pass too, up by Diamond Lake...those are the two places I feel happiest and most at home. Not that I plan on dying anytime soon. There are many adventures and experiences I will do...we're not even halfway done yet!

There is so much peace in this valley. We have our own micro-climate here. It's much cooler and wetter than Nederland. We have moss, deep forests, moose and fox cries echoing through the night. It reminds me of Alaska, Norway and much wetter places. This winter I want to measure snowfall here, as I suspect it's much higher than just a few miles east. That could be tough...how do snow stakes work in heavy wind? We shall see!

On a walk the other night I saw the early signs of the changing of the seasons. The ferns (I think they are ferns) are turning yellow on their tips. In a month, the first leaves will be turning. In two months, we'll be entering the absolute height of autumn. And in three months, it will all be over, the trees bare, waiting for winter to hit. Time passes quickly here, and it's important to seize it as much as the body allows.

An old woman at the rock by the stream came up to me today and told me about the Ouzel nest. I have to admit, I don't know what an Ouzel is. You can learn a lot from your elders. They watch more, and are more patient. I'm always running around, pushing it, but sometimes I wonder what I fail to see - like the Ouzel nest.

07/21/2016

We've moved out of the dreaded fire season and into something much more palatable...monsoon season. While the mornings are humid, the evenings bring cool air, rain, clouds, thunder and all the things that make summer life at 8,800 feet above sea level palatable. I'm not a summer person...never have been and doubt I ever will be, but the past week has been much more enjoyable than the previous month and a half.

It's been a bizarre summer, in some ways a summer of waiting and reloading for future adventures. For the very near future, we plan a big one: either a hike of the entire Continental Divide Trail or, perhaps more motivating and inspiring, a hike north from home to very far northern terminus of the Great Divide Trail near the Yukon border. The former has been done before. The latter would be an expedition into true adventure. In the meantime, we wait. Little medical things to take care of, dental work to get done, a work place to keep running and optimistic. Life basically. I struggle with it, because I realize life doesn't last forever, but it's not a terrible fate. For summer in Happy Valley is downright delightful.

We've done a lot of different activities. While May was spent for me largely sick after a brutal and hard ski season, June had copious amounts of mountain biking and hiking. We'd ride in on weekends, a 25 mile jaunt through the woods and dirt roads between here and 633 South Broadway. Elaine got some clipless pedals this spring and it's made a big difference in her progression. It's been a lot of fun and I'm looking forward to next week to get back into it. We're taking a NOLS Wilderness First Responder Class at C.U., and the schedule is quite conducive to bike commuting.

July this year has been a foray into trail running. Elaine's been heading out with Ester and Jill, and last week I finally got the guts to go run with her! I completed the longest run of my life last Wednesday, the 18 mile High Lonesome Loop. Truth is, running hurts the heck out of me, but it's good. I've been struggling with some breathing issues all summer, and I've noticed it gets worse in heat and when the pollen is high. I suspect it's allergies, and I'm looking forward to that season slowly, slowly dying off. Anyway, the run was great and while my legs felt like dead weights by the end, I was excited that I really never got too sore! We completed the look in 4:45, which I'm told is a respectable time.

We've also done a fair amount of roller skiing. We signed up for a Tuesday evening roller ski training group down in Boulder with Adam St. Pierre and it's been a real learning experience. At least half the battle for me is feeling comfortable on the darned things, especially on the downhills. They're scary! It's also hot as heck, as I'm just not used to exercising in 95° heat. Despite that, there has been improvement, and I'm looking forward to continued progression. We also got some classic roller skis and lately I've taken to skiing up Shelf with a small backpack and then hiking back down. It feels as close to skinning as anything I've ever done, except for that you don't want to get into the habit of a lazy kick! I enjoy the steady exertion up and the peaceful walk through the forest back down.

Work has been trying this summer. I don't want to go into details, but it's been a struggle keeping the team together and motivated. I put a lot of responsibility on myself and feel an obligation to the community to keep the store as iconic as it's always been. It's more than a retail store...it's a community gathering point. The personal struggle for me...stay optimistic at all times. I think I'm doing a decent job, but there is always room for improvement.

As is always the case, when life tosses lemons my way, nature heals. Be it a calm moment on the rock above the creek, or just standing in the forest listening to the aspen leaves rustle, or hiking to the overlook or lakes on the divide and soaking it all in, I find all the stresses of life slowly fade away and the mind reach an equilibrium. I really have nothing to complain about actually, for I live with a beautiful person in a beautiful place and get to do what I love for work, current challenges aside. Our health is pretty good and our fitness is building quite well for the upcoming winter. I'm cautiously excited to see where I'm at this winter. We're certainly putting in the work.

I started writing this again because I've been feeling like I have stuff to say, and I need an outlet. This was a nice intro. Writing feels good, and I think I'll do it more moving forward.

11/12/2015

Chevy Silverado tire tracks make for quite enjoyable early season nordic trails.

Camaraderie. That was yesterday's word of the day.

It was demo days, the annual gathering of the ski shop employee world, where we convene on Loveland Ski Area to test the latest and greatest ski equipment. Even for the jaded among us, this is a thrill. It's like being a car salesman at the Indy 500, a baseball fan at Yankee Stadium...ok, that's overstating it. But it is pretty damned cool. If I ever get to the point where testing brand new skis seems mundane, slap me.

The skis were all great. Seriously. Absolutely amazing. Skis today are works of art. They carve easily, they plow through everything, the make it EASY to ski. Much different from the Rossi 4SK's and Kastle skis of old, with about 3 mm of sidecut and 200+ cm of edge surface. The engineers and designers have essentially made skiing an easier thing than ever to learn. And that fact has to be good for the world.

While the skis were all great, the highlight of the day was undoubtably spending good quality time with my friends and co-workers from the greatest mountaineering store on the planet, Neptune Mountaineering. Time away from the shop, just skiing, having fun and feeling like a rat pack like the one's we used to have in high school. Good people, and I'm truly honored to work with each and every one of them.

Today, it was Elaine and my first nordic ski of the year. I've been craving nordic, and it's time. The nordic center isn't open yet, so the Asnes Nansen's and 3-pin leathers got the call. We took a chance on snow and headed up the old favorite from last year...the five mile jaunt to 4th of July Trailhead.

It was actually...good. Where there was snow, and for 90% of it there was, it was at least a foot deep. The wind has been ripping here the past few nights though, and the open sections got scoured. Still, it was a good ski. 10.5 miles round trip. I got to see the wild, angry wind pound the summit of South Arapaho, like some godly peak in the Himalayas. Now that's an adventure for this winter. Ski from home to the top of South Arapaho and back.

The kick and glide and stride makes me happy. The synchronization of arms and legs, moving like a dancer across the snow. Cross country is the most true form of skiing, the most ancient, and if you look carefully enough, you can see flicker of the cave man fire through the black of the mid-winter forest. Those tracks, an ancient wolf, a mammoth, of another world. They have been cross country skiing for many, many millennia. I'm proud to be part of that heritage and family.

Ancient cave art from the Sami people in Northern Scandinavia. Moose and skier play the ancient game.

11/10/2015

I look out the window and snow is falling, dancing in the front spotlight. They are saying up to a foot between now and tomorrow morning, and that really changes everything. It's very possible that that foot will not go away until sometime in late-April, and that means there will be an opportunity to ski each and every day from our front door.

Suddenly skiing is a daily occurrence. Dog walks become backcountry skis. The mountains on all sides open up, nordic trails here, little pockets of turns there, adventure everywhere, white capped mountains, wind plumes ripping off the divide, rosy, cold cheeks. It's so beautiful, it's almost too much to take in, it overwhelms the senses.

Tonight was an exciting night, as we placed our order for wax for the season. It's something I've been doing since I was in high school, and it's part of the ritual of preparation for the winter to come.

I have a story tonight. When I was a kid, living in Oslo, the U.S. Ski Team stayed at our house. As you might imagine, it made an impression on me. The year was 1982, and the World Nordic Ski Championships were being held at Holmenkollen in Oslo. This was not an uneventful World Championships, as U.S. skier Bill Koch introduced the skating technique to the world stage and proceeded to win a silver medal in the 30 km, an unprecedented achievement for an American in a sport utterly dominated by Norwegians, Swedes, Soviets and Finns. It shocked the Norwegians, and I took a little pride in being an American living there when it happened. He actually changed the sport for good at this race and introduced a technique that is a major player in today's nordic ski world.

Bill Koch did not stay at our house. But the U.S. Women's Nordic Ski Team did. My dad was the U.S. Army Attache in Oslo, and as such was the primary U.S. Army representative in Norway. A big part of the job included entertaining foreign diplomats, so we had a house of a decent size, paid for by Uncle Sam. And on this occasion, the diplomats were replaced with athletes, and the U.S. Ski Team were the honorable guests.

I was really young. But I remember. Our basement was turned into a wax room. This was before the time of massive national team waxing semi-trucks. I don't even think the U.S. women had a wax technician in 1982. Nordic ski racing - especially women's - was tiny in 1982. But the athletes were there, and they were way cooler than any technician. They entertained my child questions, showed me the process of waxing skis, and I took it all in.

A cool experience. Skiing has given me a lot over the years. Lots of memories, lots of sense of achievement, lots of pain, but a lot more joy. I feel so blessed to be able to do it again this year.

11/07/2015

The first ski tour of the year always surprises with crispness. There is a sharpness to it all - the cold air, the white snow, the blue sky, the first strides. The mountain ahead rises, rolling and stark. Yet for its starkness, this mountain is an old friend. So many days here, and the truth is, we kind of own it. It's our mountain, and I want to grab it and possess it all for myself.

We skin through the woods. A wide open view to the west, the mountains golden with the sunrise, the divide, the beyond. Across the stream, barely frozen, as winter finally wrestles control of the water from the grips of summer. Up the gradual section, feeling the stride, finding that rhythm, keeping the skis flat, not lifting too much.

We pop out on the bottom of the slope. "Well, let's see what we can find," I tell Elaine. I'm feeling surprisingly good, so take the lead and break trail through 18 inches of powder on top of zero base. The key is to hug the trees. Up here, skier's right is the side of choice. The wind will deposit close to two feet of snow in some places off of just five inches of fresh snow (usually on skier's right), and leave it scoured bare in other places.

Damn this feels good. The oxygen filling the body so full, the lungs getting a slight burn, the legs working. I feel alive, more alive than ever, and genuinely happy. Strange. I feel good. Much better than any day last year. That's a shock to be honest, and it's a testament to the work of summer paying off. It's going to be a good fucking year.

We reach a bowl, a place where the krummholz takes over, a dancing meadow of flowers and butterflies in the summer, and magical deposit of powder snow and giant smiles in the winter. Surprise, surprise...there is some skiing to be had. Not much, three turns here, seven there, and then scoot, scoot, scoot past bare sections, but it's definitely skiing.

A climb, hard breathing, spirits blasting, we reach the top. Huge grins and a longs hug. The first skinned summit of the year is a cause for celebration. Skin rip and tentative turns down. At first, it feels slow. And then, a patch of magic. One turn, two, three and more, floating through powder, not a rock nearby, freedom restored.

We wind through old woods, friends and nooks, through more slopes of early season bliss. Even deeper down here, in the trees. We whoop and smile - a surprise powder day in early-November. We live a lucky life.

Back to the road, gliding, double poling, avoiding rocks. We look back on the slope, see our tracks, and feel a joy and satisfaction that hasn't been felt in a long time.

11/02/2015

Loveland Basin sits right on the top of the Continental Divide. As such, it's usually the first or second area to open for the year. The location of this year's first day of skiing. In reality, about 3% of this terrain was open!

Today we decided to open the 2015-16 ski season proper with a day up at Loveland Basin Ski Area. We were fortunate enough to have a couple tickets given to us at a recent ski movie we went to and were both hankering to finally get on snow and start the year off right.

We've made it a goal to ski the resort more this year. It's a necessary evil. Of my 150 days skiing last year, exactly two were at a downhill resort. I much prefer the backcountry to the crowds at the areas, but the truth is if you want to improve your skiing, you need the repetition that only the resort can provide (or, I suppose a helicopter could provide if you are Beyonce rich). As such, we've committed to trying to get up to the resort once a week this winter to keep the skiing skills honed.

It's well needed. I was not as confident as I would have liked this past spring on some of the steeper descents. So today it was back to basics - good body position, weight on the balls to mid of the foot, hands up, relaxed and ready. Skied slowish, trying to feel every inch of the turn, building all the way through the fulcrum, and the rebound and extension to the next link. It was a turn-back-the-page 25 years type of day, when I'd make my way down the slopes of Sugarbush with my coach Al Hobart analyzing every movement, and offering feedback on how to get it better. And then Al would go ripping down after us, powerful, compact, smooth, all 55 or 60 years old of him, and we'd all be like...damn, I want to ski like him.

My ski coach in high school, Al Hobart. A great human and an incredible skier.

Truth is, I only felt that really sweet sensation on maybe 20% of my turns today. The rest were kind of sloppy. There were maybe six or seven turns that felt downright good. Not bad, really, after essentially a year off the downhill skis and 18 months removed from ACL surgery. I'll take it, and we'll keep having fun progressing. I like the early season repetition and tedium of building technique back up...it's a ritual I've been doing for some time now and it feels like home.

Day one photo from Loveland. Elaine's response to seeing this: "Great. I'm in the backseat, hands are in the gunslinger position and I'm caving." It's that time of year to be critical about technique and work hard to get it right.

We kept it pretty short - a focused 120 minutes - as a result of being absolutely worked from a hard week of work (4 out of 5 late nights) and an overall groggy, exhausted feeling that, even with a double shot mocha, didn't ever go quite away. I'm looking forward to a return to a normal schedule and getting back in some sort of pattern.

I did order a helmet tonight upon returning from the resort. We never wear helmets in the backcountry, but the resort is altogether too dangerous and random not to - especially when it's the white-ribbon-of-death early season. Goal number one for this season (any season really) is to stay healthy all year long - you don't ski when you're hurt badly - and the noggin is a good thing to protect.

And so it's on, day #1 in the books. No skiing the next two days, but they are saying snow Wednesday and Thursday. Will it be enough to start building the base for local adventures? If not, we may have to do our semi-annual trip up to Bruce's Trail on Rabbit Ears Pass. After all, it's pretty hard to beat a couple days of nordic skiing, broken up by a trip to Strawberry Hot Springs!

10/27/2015

Upon returning from a really nice trip to the west coast to spend some time with mom, Elaine and I have returned to our home in Eldora, Colorado to find 28° temperatures, a stiff blowing west wind, and a couple of inches of snow on the ground. And so, once again, the ritual of starting up another ski season begins.

2014 started with a long fall, and then a stellar two weeks in December where it never stopped snowing. We followed a lot of animal tracks west this month.

This is an exciting one for us. While last year was certainly of high quality in many ways, the truth is I still felt quite limited from knee surgery on my ACL that took place in late-May of 2014. Combined with the passing of my father, and it's safe to say preparations for the 2014-15 winter was not what we normally do. It left me slightly stressed all winter long. We did a lot of nordic touring, in part because snow quality was so-so, but also because it was easier on the mind. Bottom line - it's safer to ski up and down 4th of July Road a bundle of times than it is to ski West Ridge full bore. As such, that's what I, and in turn, we, did.

Heading on up west somewhere on the three-pin leathers and Nansens! Early season bliss!

The year culminated with a stellar trip to Norway where we skied some 200 km from the little village of Hjerkinn to Lillehammer, and I have to say that was one of the finest winter adventures I've ever enjoyed. I'll recap it here on this blog later. We completed the 42 km Alley Loop in sub-three hours and Elaine won the Eldora Nighthawks Overall women nordic series. It was, by all accounts, a stellar nordic year. On the flip side, the Elk Mountain Traverse was a serious dud, mainly because I wasn't mentally ready for skiing down the backside of Crested Butte in the dark with 500 crazies. Visions of collisions and popped ACL's danced through my head, and that's no way to race. Bottom line, I was scared and mentally honest. We got down the valley, had a good heart-to-heart, and decided this wasn't the time. It was one of those gut feelings and I've learned over the years to trust those a lot. In the end, not a bad year, but not a great year. It seems strange to say 150 days on skis is a "low" year, but, well, it was the 2nd lowest total we've achieved since we've been married. Numbers don't tell the whole story, but they do tell part of the story.

New Years Eve midnight ritual ski. It was so cold Elaine's hair froze white.

Things are feeling a lot better going into 2015-16. It's been a wonderful summer, highlighted by a 500-mile hike along the Continental Divide Trail from Wolf Creek Pass to Eldora. What a gorgeous trip, a life-changing trip in some ways. Be wary of going too deep into the Wilderness, lest it become tough to come out again. We've both been suffering from a fair bit of that on our return to civilization. Nevertheless, we got a good fitness bump on an solid summer base. I'm pleased to say I felt zero pain in my knee, so it's all systems go moving into this coming year. Dryland has been going well, with a bunch of roller skiing, running, nordic bounding, ab work and hiking with heavy packs. Physically and mentally, we're ready.

Had the privilege of skinning up A-Basin with Elaine and her NCAA Division One athlete sister Rose, who rows (not Rose) for the University of Washington rowing varsity team, pretty much the best team in the USA.

As far as goals for the upcoming season...well, we'll see how that plays out. We've both caught the nordic bug hard, and I'd tentatively like to see what I can do in the 30 km Stagecoach Classic in January. Classic is my better event, and it's going to be a lot of fun trying to hone those skills and seeing where the chips fall. I think a return to the Alley Loop is likely. We'll do some A.T. races, some nordic races, but mostly just adventures in the mountains, far from lycra and race courses. As far as the Elk goes, well I think we're ready to give it a break for a few years. It's become a rather popular bucket list item for folks - ala the Leadville 100 - and I tend to feel that when things become bucket list races it's time to do something else. It's been a good run, a few surprising podiums even, a lot of joy and a lot of suffering, but it's time to let the passion and stoke for that event rebuild. Elaine wants to do the Power of Four and see if she can suffer less than the first go around, so I have little doubt we'll be lined up at the start of that pain fest, and I have little doubt she be might be towing me at some point up the last climb! Beyond that, we'll see.

Norge, har du mit hjerte...

I've found the best cure for post-adventure depression is planning a new adventure, so took advantage of the app Hopper and booked cheap tickets to Oslo at the end of March (TIP: most of the U.S. probably thinks going to Norway in the winter would be akin to sitting next to somebody who has the Ebola Virus in a gondola...tickets are less than anywhere else in Europe). Gary Neptune told us the place would get in our blood and become an annual addiction, and he might damned well be right. Our main goal for this trip is skiing across the Hardangervidda. The Hardangervidda is a couple hundred mile long massive, vast, barren plateau that was actually the filming ground for the snow scenes in Empire Strikes Back. It's the home of the largest reindeer herd in the world. It's also the number one training ground for polar exploration skiing, and Elaine and I would like to dabble in that someday.

It was the year of learning to groom!

We have nearly three weeks scheduled in Norway, and it doesn't take three weeks to ski across the Hardangervidda. We're looking at bringing our AT gear and making some turns above the Arctic Circle near Tromso in the Lyngen Alps. I have this fantasy of our AT gear, camping gear, a canoe and a tent and basically padding the coast from inlet to inlet looking for mountains in the Lyngen Alps to skin up and then ski back down. Elaine is terrified of the water, but she loves powder, so we'll see which one will win out. This is an area I've always wanted to ski ever since seeing that segment in that Warren Miller film, and there is no time like now. And then, it's home to Colorado for May and June, the two best months for ski mountaineering.

A day after the Elk. Down but far from out.

One of the highlights for me is working in an awesome ski and mountaineering shop in Boulder and it gets us so stoked to kit folks out with perfect gear for winter adventure in the mountains. It's funny, some people think working in a gear shop is a slacker job, but to me it's about making people happy and making the best days of their year that much better. We love it, and it's what we like doing, critics and low pay be damned. A few years ago I was able to eliminate my personal debt (save that fucking student loan). We live pretty simply, don't party or go to concerts, don't own a credit card, don't spend a nickel on alcohol so are able to spend our money on our real vices, good ski gear and traveling to cool mountains. We're exceptionally fortunate to work the same schedule in the same place, which saves us commuting money and gives us lots of quality time off together. And, contrary to what some might think, we don't get sick of each other the more time we spend together. Just the opposite actually.

Intergalactics were chaotic this...wait...every year. No shenanigans whatsoever at this event.

Back to tonight. Damn, it's snowing out, and I'm tempted to take my rock skis out for a pre-work tour. We'll see. It will probably be a hike. I still remember skinning up Caribou a few Octobers back and post-holing and scraping our shins in a talus field and banging our knees on rocks there was so little snow, and that experience has haunted us to this day.

But soon. I can't wait for that first carve on a A-Basin groomer, diving that edge in, feeling that swoosh at the apex and rebounding to the next turn. I can't wait to put on the nordic skis up at Bruce's Trail on Rabbit Ears and just feel that first damn glide. That burning sensation in the lungs, that cold that engulfs the body after an awesome day of cross-country skiing just before the sunsets. That's in the next week or so. I get giddy thinking about it.

This will be my 40th season of skiing (95% of my life) and I feel like I'm nine years old. It never gets old, and the excitement builds each year more and more.